


Chasing Hearts

by br0jangles



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Club scenes, Emotions, First Times, M/M, a series of hook ups, aka glitter dave, coming out late in life, coming together, divorcekat, rec drug use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24827488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/br0jangles/pseuds/br0jangles
Summary: Karkat decides that he can't lie to himself anymore. He's lived his entire life up until now as a straight male, but that's not who he is. He's gay and he's going to BE THAT. So he goes to a gay club for the first time, where he meets Dave Strider. Dave teaches him how to do The Sex. Sorta.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 5
Kudos: 57





	Chasing Hearts

The noise swirls around you and makes everything blur together. The music pounds so loud you can feel it in your heart. There are bodies in every direction, in various states of public indecency. You’re not drunk enough for this.

You had been standing along a wall, for about… who cares how long. A while, fuck off. And in a very brief fit of bravery, decided that you were going to dance. But, you only made it a few steps into the crowd before you changed your mind, and now you’re on your way to the bar as the perfect excuse for why you got up in the first place. It’s totally where you were headed the entire time.

You make it there with no less than fifteen asses having touched you. Maybe you came out here to do exactly that: to get some ass. But not like this. This is just… humiliating. You’re so out of place. You don’t belong here. You’re too old for this. This was a mistake.

You order another drink. You stand there and continue to feel sorry for yourself while you wait.

“How do you like your eggs?” you hear.

Your… eggs? Maybe you misheard. The music _is_ pretty loud.

You turn to see who asked, and find a boy staring at you. He’s small, young, blonde. Got a pair of shades on, for some reason, even though the club is dark as hell. He’s smiling. He’s… cute.

“My what?” you ask, incredulous. Not only was he asking about eggs in a night club, but he was asking _you_ specifically about eggs.

The boy rolls his shoulders in an exaggerated show of emotion and gives you a look. You aren’t sure how you can tell, considering half his face is covered, but he sure is doing it. “Your _eggs,_ dude, how do you like them cooked? Scrambled? Over easy? Do you like omelettes? Come on, give me something to work with here.”

You furrow your brow at him and don’t say anything for a moment. Are you missing something? What is that supposed to mean? Is it some kind of code you haven’t learned yet? You panic and say, “I don’t eat eggs,” even though you definitely eat eggs and you definitely like them scrambled.

He purses his lips at you like he wasn’t expecting you to say that. He’s standing very close to you now, and you have no idea how you didn’t notice that happening. He smells like cheap feminine body spray and you can see glitter on his cheeks. Dusting his collar bones. Over his shoulders. He might be small, but he’s lean, and he looks like he’s probably a swimmer or something. His skin pulls tight over subtly defined muscle and… wow, you’re staring.

When you look back up, he’s grinning at you like he just caught you checking him out. Which, you guess, he did. He looks like he’s about three seconds away from devouring you, and you can’t help how hot your face gets. What’s his fucking deal??

He’s practically pressed up against your chest when he finally speaks again. “If you don’t eat eggs, I can get creative with whatever else you’ve got in your fridge.”

“My fridge?” you ask. Your confusion only intensifies the closer he gets. You’re flustered and you do not understand what is happening. Why is he so fixated on breakfast foods? Why is he so pretty? And _why is he so close to you??_

“Mmhmmm…” he drawls. He’s touching you now, oh god, he’s got his hand on your chest. He’s leaning in, his face is so close to yours. “You know. In the morning. When I spend the night. After you fuck me so hard I can’t go home. I’ll make you breakfast!”

If your face was hot before, it might as well be on fire now. Maybe it’s the alcohol that makes your head spin, but he’s definitely got you wrapped around his fucking finger. You don’t even try to fight it when he gets up on his toes to kiss you.

So this is it, huh? This is how you’re going to die.

He tastes like tequila and marijuana and it would be off-putting if he weren’t grinding on you like that. Damn, he’s… really into it. His tongue plays with yours. His hands are feeling your chest, your shoulders, until they’re _not._ When one of them grabs your dick through your jeans, you jerk back, only to find the other squeezing your ass. You end up firmly pressed between him and the edge of the bar, and he’s still dirty kissing you.

The noise you make breaks the kiss, but he’s too busy giggling at you to notice the frantic look in your eye. “Damn, daddy-cakes, how much longer are you going to keep me waiting? Where’s your car?”

Your head is swimming and you feel like you can’t keep up with what’s happening. What _is_ happening?? 

“It’s…” you start. You’re kind of frozen to the spot. He doesn’t miss a beat though. He takes your hand and starts pulling you through the thick of people toward the front door. Your drink sits on the counter, untouched as you leave it behind.

“We can just get a cab,” he says, and you’re too stunned to fight him as he drags you along. You find yourself standing on the street with him. Your heart is racing and your hands are sweating. He can definitely feel it, because he’s still holding your hand, but he seems unbothered by it.

Why are you so fucking nervous?? It’s just some kid, it’s not like it matters. You’re never going to see him again. Your experience don’t matter. It doesn’t _matter_ that this is the first boy that has ever kissed you. You’re _forty-six years old,_ you’ve had _plenty of sex,_ and you can _do this._

You can do this.

He flags down a cab, it stops, and then he’s pulling you into the back of it. You tumble in all at once, and you kind of land in his lap, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, if the way he hums at you and wraps his arms around your waist is anything to go by, you’d say he’s pretty fucking pleased by it.

Your breath comes in short, quiet huffs, that definitely don’t sound panicked. You’re not panicking, you’re fine. You’re too busy looking up into this kid’s glasses to realize that the cab isn’t moving.

“Tell the guy your address,” he whispers to you, with a kiss to the side of your mouth. It’s only now that you realize that you’ve been pretty much completely silent this whole time.

“Uh…” You clear your throat and recite your address to the driver. The car starts moving. He takes that as his cue to start kissing you again.

You try not to be completely useless and kiss him back this time. This, at least, you know how to do. But it still feels different. His body is slim and flat beneath yours. A little hard. His mouth is demanding and solid and wow, he’s actually really fucking good at this. You moan into it, and you can feel him smiling again.

“You like that, huh?” he asks you. You nod and kiss him again, slipping your tongue into his mouth to taste that sick mix of substances again. It’s growing on you, honestly, but the more saliva you swap, the fainter it gets.

His hands move from your back around your waist, up to your chest. His fingers dig into you, and he groans. It almost sounds pained, and you’re concerned for all of three seconds before he’s grinding demandingly into you. “You are just so fucking hot, aren’t you? What the _fuck?_ Who said this was okay??”

Is he… mad? That he finds you attractive? Is this normal? You raise an eyebrow at him, but he grabs you by the hair and pulls you in again for another bruising kiss. When he grinds against your thigh, you can feel how hard his dick is, and _that’s_ new. Your arousal spikes violently and you grind back, to which he groans angrily again.

You’re about to ask him what the deal is with that, but then the cab rolls to a stop, and you can see your apartment building out the window. You sigh and dig out your wallet, forking over the cash, and grabbing the kid by the wrist to exit the vehicle. 

It’s your turn to pull him along, as you climb the steps and fumble with your keys to get the door unlocked. He’s quiet all the way inside, until you’re safely in your own living room.

There’s a moment, then, where you wonder if this is okay. Your pathetic, mediocre life flashes before your eyes. You’re successful, you guess. You enjoy your job with the fire department. You’ve got money. But you’ve also got no friends outside of work, no kids, and three ex-wives. Could it really have been this easy this whole time? Is it really this easy now?

You don’t even know this kid's name.

But when you look at him, he’s looking at you too, and he’s clearly waiting for something. You… Damn, fuck all that, you want to kiss him again.

So you do.

He makes a grateful noise when you finally shove him up against the door. He wraps his arms around your neck and latches on, and you easily hold his waist as he picks his legs up, too. He’s wrapped all the way around you in a matter of seconds, and you rock him into the door with your hips between his thighs.

He’s a lot more vocal than you would have expected another man to be, but then again, none of this has been anything that you expected. He’s easy to moan into your mouth, gasp and whine, whisper dirty things to you. “God, your dick is probably huge, isn’t it? I can’t wait for you to fuck me. Are you gonna do it right here? Fuck, that’s so fucking hot. I’ve got condoms in my pocket. I’m- mm mhnnn...”

He ruts against you, chest arched into your own. He keeps talking while you kiss and suck at his neck. “Shit, you’re so _big,_ dude… I’m quaking in my fucking boots over here. What do you press, like three hundred? Three fifty? I want to watch you get all hot and sweaty over some gym equipment, and then get all hot and sweaty over me.”

You can’t exactly say that he’s not getting to you. As obnoxious and embarrassing as the never ending narrative is, it’s flattering, and it excites you that he wants you this badly. You haven’t felt _wanted_ by another person like this in ages. 

You haven’t wanted anyone else this badly in ages, either.

You heft your hands up under his ass and step away from the door. He clings to you, and you easily carry him like that back to your room. You set him down on the edge of your bed, and he’s quick to let you go and start shedding clothes.

You watch with only slightly wide eyes while he undresses for you. Everything is so… natural for him. So easy. Like he’s done this a million times. And maybe he has.

But you haven’t.

You feel like you’re caught in a tornado, and he’s dead center in the middle of it. The only way to survive is to stay close, or you might get thrown off the ride. He’s naked before you’ve even kicked off your shoes, and then he’s climbing off the bed to help you.

His fingers tuck into your shirt, and you’re helpless but to let him pull it up and off of you. He’s still got those glasses on, but his expression is still easy to read. He’s _eating you up._ He’s raking his eyes all over you like a dog eyeing up a perfectly unclaimed tree. His hands are on your belt faster than even he can keep up with, because he fumbles with it before finally getting it out of it’s loop.

He’s muttering to himself again, and this time it doesn’t sound like it’s meant for you. Like he’s hyping himself up, like maybe he might be a little bit nervous, too.

That makes you feel… a lot better.

You breathe a sigh of relief, but he’s not finished with you yet. He tugs your pants and underwear down all in one go, and then he’s staring openly at your dick, he even pushes his glasses up on his head to do it, and it makes you flush again. It’s not that you’re embarrassed or anything, it’s just… does he have to look at it like that? 

You haven’t been brave enough to look at his yet. You _want_ to, you do, but it’s just so fucking real. It’s too real, and this feels like too much of a fantasy to ruin it yet. Can’t you just… let him keep ogling you and leave it at that?

He stuffs his hands into your hair again, but he doesn’t kiss you. He pulls you in and backs himself back down onto the bed. You follow obediently, kicking your pants off your ankles and crawling on top of him.

Your hands press firmly into the bed on either side of him, and you bend down to kiss him again. He hums into it, but it’s… a little flat? Where did all that enthusiasm go? 

“Are you okay?” you ask, and he sighs.

“I’m great,” he says, and he’s giving you that smile again, but it’s lazier than the others. Like maybe he just realized he’s been intoxicated this entire time. “You can touch me, you know,” he adds.

You suck in a stiff breath, hands unmoving from their place on the bed. Touch him? Like… touch him where? His body? His hair? His…

He’s looking at you expectantly, and the lump in your throat stops you from answering him.

He watches you carefully for another few seconds. You’re starting to panic.

But his smile never waivers, and he sighs again, sounding much more relaxed than he has any right to be while you’re freaking out like this. “Alright...” he says, and you hold your breath. “...I’ll just touch you then. Okay?”

He doesn’t let you say no before his hands are on your chest again. He feels all along your pectorals, fingers tracing along the contour of the muscle. He rubs both thumbs over your nipples, and you shiver. It’s more shocking than anything, honestly. You’ve never considered touching yourself there before, and him just… _going for it_ is a different type of sexy all on its own.

He’s bold. He’s bolder than you’ll ever be. You suddenly realize that he might be too good for you.

His hands slide away from your chest, down the bumps of your abs. He moves with confidence over skin and hair, and then he’s pushing against you. You back up, not having noticed that you were watching him touch you, and he’s giving you that cheeky grin from the club.

“Let me on top,” he says. You look at him dumbly for a second, before a chill runs through you at the prospect that he might want to--

in your--

“Not like that, relax, jesus,” he assures you, and all at once the tension in your shoulders dissipates. Holy shit. “Just… physically. Roll over, man.”

You hesitate for a moment, unfamiliarity creeping up on you again, but you do as he asks. You roll onto your back, and he follows you seamlessly. He straddles your thighs and smoothes both hands up and over your hips. “For a guy who looks like you do, you’re kind of timid,” he says.

That lump catches in your throat again, but he cuts you off before you can try to defend yourself. “Are you, like, experimenting or something? Pick up some hot twink at the club while your girl is away on business? Don’t worry, dude, I got you. I’ll blow your fucking mind. Don’t even sweat it.” His hands never stop moving on you, and without breaking pace, he wraps one hand around your dick and starts to stroke you slowly. “I mean, like… okay, maybe you can work up a little bit of a sweat. If you don’t get all hot and bothered over me, what am I even doing here?”

You don’t even really hear the rest of what he says, because holy _shit,_ his hand is on your cock. It’s dry, and the skin pulls as he moves, but he’s gentle about it, and you don’t even fucking care. Somehow you’d managed to forget about how fucking hard you were, but he didn’t.

_He didn’t._

You aren’t sure what to do with your hands, so they fist into the blanket on either side of you. You can’t take your eyes off of him. He’s so pretty, so sure of himself, so fucking sexy. He makes you question how you’ve gone your whole life without this. What the fuck were you doing?? You could have _had this._

All this time.

Your teeth clench together and you can’t decide if you’d rather watch his face or his hands. Luckily, he saves you yet again, by asking you a question. “Hey, can I suck you off? I kind of can’t stop looking at your dick, dude, it’s fucking mouth watering.”

You choke on your own breath, and suck in another one to pull yourself together. There’s bold, and then there’s _shameless._ This kid is going to be the death of you. Jesus christ.

You nod slightly, and then more confidently. “Yeah...” you say, and the look he gives you makes your heart leap up into your throat. Your dick twitches in his hands, your hips jump, and he bites his lip around a genuinely wide grin.

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes. You’ve never seen someone get so excited over wanting to put your dick in their mouth, and you almost feel like you shouldn’t be seeing it. Like it should be something private, but he’s anything but private. He’s been laid bare and on display since the moment he approached you, and there’s something you find extremely admirable about that. He’s honest, and you can appreciate that.

He sits up on his knees, and you’re mortified as he stuffs his hands between your thighs and pushes them apart. “Damn, your legs are fucking ripped, too… I want to put my mouth all over you, what the fuck,” he says, and he continues to feel them as he settles down between them. You’ve never blushed so many times in one day, but this kid just keeps it coming, doesn’t he?

You can’t say you hate the attention, though. It’s… nice. It’s definitely nice.

Your eyes are half lidded as you watch him sink down between your legs, and somehow the hot ring of his lips around you shocks you. It’s not like you weren’t expecting it, but it’s just-- it’s _good._ It’s so fucking hot, and as he sinks further down, it rips a groan from your throat.

Suddenly, you know _exactly_ what to do with your hands. You bury both in his hair, and it jostles his glasses a bit. He makes a noise of protest, jumping up a bit like they might fall off. But when they don’t, he sinks into a vibrating moan and takes you in again.

He bobs over you with practiced ease, twisting and stroking his fist around the base in time with his mouth. He flattens and presses his tongue along the shaft as he goes. Pulls up and suckles at the tip enough to tease a shudder out of you, and sinks back down.

He does it like he lives for it, like it’s his last fucking meal. It makes you dizzy with desire, for him, all for him. He’s driving you crazy, with his words and his tongue and his hands, and your hands tighten in his hair as that fire in your belly billows out of control. It swells inside you, making your toes curl. _You can’t take your eyes off him._

He has no right looking that good with your dick in his mouth. He’s _gorgeous._ Like a lewd, shameless, horny angel.

You chew your lip hard, watching the way he moves like he knows exactly what to do. You can see his eyes from this angle, sort of. You can see his eyelashes, at least, the downcast of his gaze. Maybe his eyes are closed. Maybe he’s enjoying the taste of you a little too much. Maybe he’s lost in it, the same way you are.

He pulls up and sucks hard around your glans, and-- and wow you’re so fucking close.

“I’m--” you start, but the words get stuck in your throat. Your hands tremble a little with how hard they’re gripping in his hair.

He groans long and low, like he’s disappointed, and pulls completely off your cock. He looks back up at you and he’s fucking _pouting._ “I wasn’t done yet…” he says, and you almost laugh, because you _could have_ finished. You feel just a little delirious over the ruined orgasm, but he’s undeterred.

He sighs with what appears to be loss, gazing down lovingly at your wet dick. He gives it one more stroke with his fist, a goodbye, before crawling over it and properly on top of you. His ass settles over your hips, your cock pressed flush up against the back of it, and you groan with frustration. He shushes you though and leans down for another dirty kiss.

He’s rocking his hips back so delicately as he kisses you, like he knows exactly what he’s doing as your cock slides up and down between his cheeks. You groan-- and he _laughs_ at you, chuckling with his tongue pressed between your lips, and it makes you flush all over again.

You want to touch him, but his laughter has made you lose your nerve. It must be written all over your body language, because soon he’s pulling back and pouting at you. “Don’t be like that, babe,” he says, and you go even redder at the pet name. “I’m only laughin’ ‘cause you’re cute. It’s a good thing, I promise.”

You struggle to believe him, but he doesn’t move away from you, so you give a small nod. You voice pulls at your throat in a way that makes it feel like it’s not yours, but you _try._ “You’re, uh… you’re cute, too.”

He grins at you so wide, he’s so attractive, it’s _devastating._ You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as he bends to kiss you again. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, with a hum against your lips.

There’s a moment of silence so thick, you’re pretty sure it suffocates you. You feel like you can’t breathe, but you know you are, because you can hear each breath in your ears loud as the bass in the club you just left. The eye contact he’s making with you is so heavy, it makes you squirm.

This is bad. You’re going to panic again. Why is he so hot? Why is he looking at you like that? Why are his eyes so pretty? So intense? Why does his body feel like that on top of yours? _Why are you so bad at this?_

He cuts you off with a hand against your chest as he sits up. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go running off on me.” He gives you a wink and you swallow your heart.

You absolutely want to run, but you’re frozen in place. You sit up on your elbows to watch him move off the bed, dig around for something in his jeans, and then he’s back on you like he never left, thighs spread easily over your hips. He’s got something in his hands, a little plastic square, and when he cracks it open, something shiny leaks out onto his fingers.

Lube. It’s fucking lube. Thank god he was prepared, because you sure as hell weren’t. You didn’t even consider something like that when you chose to go out tonight.

He shuffles back, and it’s only now that you notice he’s got something else in his hands, too. A condom, obviously. You don’t know why that… kind of disappoints you. His mouth had been _heavenly_ on your dick, and you think his ass probably would be, too.

That thought makes you hot all the way down to your chest, but he doesn’t notice. He doesn’t say anything as he rips open the packet, rolls the condom on you, and then proceeds to empty the little pack of lube directly onto your cock.

It’s _cold,_ and you make a noise of complaint, and that’s when he finally looks back up at you with that charming smile of his again. He grins as he strokes the lube over your cock, and it warms just as quickly as it shocked you.

“You ready, big guy?” he asks you, and your breath hitches in your chest as he sits up on his knees over you.

You rake your eyes over his body… and _really_ take him in for the first time. He’s gorgeous. Skinny. Lean. Freckled. His hair is beautiful. His eyes are stunning. He’s still covered in glitter. His… his cock is pretty too, standing at attention the same way the rest of him is. It’s pink and hard and- and you can’t look at it anymore, fuck, you’re _embarrassed,_ why are you so embarrassing??

You cover your mouth with a hand, eyes rolling to the side, and he giggles at you again.

“I’ll take that as a yes…” he says. He shuffles forward again, and then bends his legs and lines your cock up-

holy shit, this is happening-

and he knocks his head back blissfully as he sinks down over you, moaning so fucking pretty, and the noise you make is nowhere _near_ as pretty.

You choke-- he’s _tight._ He’s hotter than hell, wrapped around you, and your nerves can’t stop you from touching him now. Your hands move to grab at his hips, digging in desperately with your fingers, teeth clenched, and he makes another pleased noise above you.

“Adorable,” he says, and it’s humiliating but you can’t bring yourself to care.

It simultaneously feels like forever and not long enough before he moves. It shocks you, pulling another gasp from your lungs, and you grip his hips even harder. You think you must be hurting him, but he doesn’t say anything, so you don’t stop.

He shifts, leaning back on both hands and moving to his feet. He’s _presented_ before you, on top of you, _for you._ Your hands slide down his thighs to his calves and keep holding onto him as he pumps his hips down. He moans, and your eyes roll back as your cock disappears inside him again.

You’re not going to last long like this. He’s worked you up too much. He’s too pretty, he’s too good at this. You’re all his, completely at his mercy, and he doesn’t show it. He fucks his hips down onto you without restraint. You’re powerless here, and he uses you however he wants. That probably shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does.

You’re cumming into the condom in a humiliating matter of seconds (it had to have been at least a minute, it _had to)_ but that doesn’t stop him. He rides your aching, oversensitive cock until you’re ready to cry, before he finally wraps a hand around his own dick and manages to finish himself off.

It’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever seen.

He’s warm and pink, panting, totally blissed out. He’s _using you._ He knows exactly what he wants and how to get it, and you envy him completely.

You think… you might be in shock as he rolls off of you. 

It’s… over? It’s over already? 

_Already,_ whatever dude, you’re fucking exhausted. Like you could have handled any more than that.

You’ve collapsed flat on your back, breathing hard, and his body is warm next to yours. You wish his face were closer to you so you could kiss him again and tell him how beautiful he is. You fantasize about it silently, listening to him breathe, until you feel him moving to get up.

You don’t open your eyes until you hear clothes shuffling. A beat passes, and then you’re snapping open and sitting up to look at him. You’re shocked to see him halfway dressed already.

“Hey…” you start, but you don’t exactly know what to say. “Do you, uh…”

He stops and looks at you, and you feel sheepish. You’re at a loss for words.

“...are you leaving?” you ask dumbly.

He smiles at you again, but this time he looks tired. “Sure am,” he says.

“You don’t have to,” you say, before you can stop yourself. “You can stay the night if you want.” You sound desperate, fuck, don’t be so desperate.

Wasn’t he going to make you breakfast, though?

“That sounds nice, sugar, but I really do have to get going.” He doesn’t elaborate. He’s not looking at you anymore. He’s putting his sunglasses back on.

You’re panicking for a new reason now.

“Well-” you start, and you know you must look pathetic. You can feel your frown pulling at your cheeks. You scramble to sit at the edge of the bed, eyes pleading with him. “When can I see you again?” you ask.

He gives you a sympathetic look and your heart sinks into your stomach. The butterflies you felt have gone slitery; a tangle of snakes around your heart in your guts.

What did you think would happen? That you’d go out to a gay club once and fall in love again?

He doesn’t love you. This was just sex. You don’t even know his name.

The look on his face is full of pity, and it stabs you in the heart again. He moves, and you flinch, but he takes your cheek gently in his hand and kisses you between the eyes. “You’re sweet,” he says, and it feels like you’re being broken up with. “You’re cute, too. Don’t get your feelings all in a twist over me, it’s nothing personal.”

He kisses you again and tries to let you go, but you grab his hand, and he turns to give you a surprised look. “What’s your name?” you ask. You can’t take your eyes off him.

His features soften a bit behind his shades. You can tell he’s exhausted. He must be coming down.

“Dave,” he offers.

And then he pulls his hand away from you.

“Dave,” you repeat. It feels _right_ in your mouth. Maybe this is naive of you, but you don’t want to let him go. You feel like - you feel like you couldn’t stand to lose him. If he leaves you tonight, you’ll _find him_ again. “I’m Karkat.”

He gives you another weak smile. “Good night, Karkat,” he says. There’s a finality to it that you hate, it rings in your ears, and then he’s walking away from you.

Away…

You hear the front door shut, and the silence that surrounds you is deafening.


End file.
